Coos
by Reality-or-Dream
Summary: Arthur looked up to see Alfred pointing at the Highland Cow on top of the hill, it's thick brown fur being caught in the wind, looking down at the four countries as though observing them./ Swearing, it's pretty biased, drabble more or less/ oneshot


On one of the many islands surrounding Scotland, four brave souls dared cross the muddy almost swamp like glen. The leader of the four was a teenage girl, she was tall, with long messy golden brown hair topped with a tartan ribbon. She had wide moss green eyes which seemed to be permanently outlined with black eye-liner, her skin was pale and covered in a mix of freckles and midge bites. The teen was slim and rather short for a 'sixteen' year old. She was wearing worn out jeans, stained with God knows what, mud green wellies that went up to her knees, a thick grey-blue hand knitted jumper which was under a black waterproof jacket. This was the personification of Islay, daughter of Scotland and Northern Ireland.

Her dad, the personification of Scotland who was also known as Hamish McDonald, walked next to his daughter. The country was taller than Alfred by a couple of centimetres, he had ginger hair streaked with black from the coal mining days. Eyes the colour of ancient forests had dulled in colour over the years, but still sparkled. His skin was scarred from the many battles he had against his brother in his youth, and was covered in freckles from the days of running around in just a kilt and body paint. The Scotsman wore similar clothing as his daughter, faded grey jeans, dark blue wellies, a black jumper and waterproof jacket.

Trailing behind the two were two blondes. One hyperactive about trekking through the heather filled hills and fields, the other bitching and moaning about the weather.

The hyper blonde who seemed to run only on coffee and hamburgers, was Alfred F. Jones, also known as the United States of America. Although there was a damp mist that clung in the air, dampening anyone who walked through it, and the muddy puddles seeming deeper than they looked, the sunny blonde was perfectly happy to be covered in mud, cow pat and cobwebs - after falling into the heather multiple times.

The other blonde was Arthur Kirkland, the personification of England. Unlike his partner, who seemed to be enjoying himself, despised being in this weather. It was depressing, and brought back far too many memories of the days where he and his brother fought each other over the slightest of things. The Englishman had his arms crossed, and tightened them at the thought of the scars which were hidden underneath the clothes.

Arthur looked over at his brother who was laughing with Islay, his face was scarred in various places and where the jumper was loose in the back the Englishman winced slightly at a deep scar at the top of his spine from Bannockburn, although he knew fine well there were many more hidden scars.

He was cruel to his older brother.

"Hey Arthur, you 'kay?" sapphire eyes came into view, causing the smaller man to blush slightly.

"Of course I am Git, why wouldn't I be?" he snapped back and carried on walking through the mud leaving the American behind.

Hamish fell back a couple of steps so he would be walking next to his English brother. The two walked side by side in a comfortable silence for several minutes before the Scotsman spoke.

"I take it yer enjoyin' yerseelf?" he asked in the thick accent. When there wasn't an answer he carried on. "Sae whit's on yer mind?"

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked. "There's nothing on my mind."

Hamish rolled his eyes. "Aye right. I ken when there's something' goin' on. Noo tell meh or I'll hae tae get yer pissed on whiskey tae get yer tae open yer mou." he smiled at the last comment, remembering the amount of times he gave his brother a hangover that more or less lasted a week.

"I was just thinking." the Englishman said, not liking the idea of getting drunk with his brother again. "About the times where we used to fight all the time."

"Whit? Is that eet?" the Scotsman laughed at this, causing Arthur to glare. "Cam away, that wis a lang time ago, we've matured a lo' since then."

"Yeah I guess." Arthur agreed, and then looked at his niece and boyfriend who were talking to one another laughing. "By the way, where are we going?"

At this Hamish smiled, a glint in his forest eyes. "Yer'll find oot saen enough."

The English country felt something familiar creep it's way up from his stomach. It was the exact same feeling he got when Francis, Antonio and Gilbert were in the corner of the conference room whispering to one another, or when Denmark tried to convince him to go drinking with him.

"Dude! Is that a cow?"

Arthur looked up to see Alfred pointing at the Highland Cow on top of the hill, it's thick brown fur being caught in the wind, looking down at the four countries as though observing them.

The two stopped next to Alfred and Islay, so they were all standing in a line. In silence the group looked up at the seemingly innocent cow.

"Aye lad, that there's a Highland Coo. They're a vereh crabbit craitur's, gey close tae whit Arthur's like in the forenoon." Scotland chuckled to himself and received a punch in the arm.

"Will it charge at us?" Arthur asked, looking at the animal uncertainly.

"Weel jist hae tae wait an' see." Islay answered happily as a couple more cows joined the first. "Like Dad said, they're aye a bunch o' crabbit craitur's. Look." the teenage picked up a stone and threw it at the group of cows.

The first one began to walk down the hill, the others following. As it began to trot, more and more Highland Cows soon followed them.

"…Dude they're heading this way." Alfred said, as a huge herd began running towards them.

"Aye lad." Hamish smiled. He and his daughter turned round simultaneously and ran down the glen leaving the other two countries behind.

"That wanker!" Arthur shouted and ran after the other two who were laughing.

Alfred and Arthur fell over several times, panic swelling in their chests as the angry beasts drew nearer. There was a fence that they climbed over earlier, Hamish and Islay had already jumped over it and were over one of the small hills, the American and English climbed over it and fell flat on their faces after getting their foot caught. The cows had found a huge gap in the fence halfway up the glen and most of them were already through it and heading towards them.

In a blind panic Alfred picked up Arthur bridal style and ran into the small burn, he began to run down it hoping the animals wouldn't follow. However, giving the fact that the water was similar to tea from the peat in the ground, it was hard to look where to go, so he missed a step and fell forward into a particularly deep area, dropping his boyfriend in the process.

Arthur was the first to climb out and run up the hill, the gate in sight, Alfred soon caught up with him shouting at him for leaving him in the water. Hamish and Islay who were already over the fence continued running down the tractor made path back to the farm still laughing. The English country looked behind him and saw that the Highland Cows were much closer than he thought, with that in mind he quickly climbed over the metal gate and continued to run back to the worn down farm house.

When the countries reunited with one another and caught their breath, Hamish started to laugh, Islay and Arthur soon following him, the adrenalin still running through their veins.

"You're a bastard Hamish." Arthur smiled.

"Aye I ken." he agreed, giggling. "I get yer evereh time."

"It neveh gets auld." Islay agreed, wiping her face with her hands.

The American looked over at the three who were laughing from the experience, he shook his head. "You dudes aren't right in the head."


End file.
